


Gentlemen Prefer Blonds

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alex you devious fuck, Alternate Canon, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:00:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tribulations of one Alexander Summers as he deliberates the ways of wooing the brilliant, telepathic Charles Xavier.</p><p>...before Erik Lehnsherr does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I have far too many near-abandoned WIPS on the kink meme. Gonna start posting them on A03 so I don't forget about them *facepalm*
> 
> For a prompt on the kink meme which asked for, and I quote, _"in which Alex gets to bang that hot ass for once. And ONLY him"._ Plus porn (which will come... eventually)
> 
> I dedicate this to the awesome OP Anon who was unfortunate enough to have me as a filler given my criminal lack of updates. I'm sorry bb, I'll try harder ;_;

\--  
 **Prologue**  
\--

Charles is taking a big risk here. He knows this, but a little pressure is all Alex needs to flourish if the last time was any indication.

They're in Kurt's bomb shelter again, just the two of them. Stakes are too high this time and though he trusts Alex inexplicably he will not risk Hank's safety for the sake of an experiment.

The blonde is standing over a hundred feet away and visibly shaken, a single hand timidly scratching the centre of his chest where the lack of a focusing mechanism is blazingly apparent. He can understand the boy's discomfort, his fear. Without Hank's contraption Alex is the epitome of chaos, a mere vessel of destruction, and the loss of it's familiar weight is a physical representation of his lack of control.

But he must control it, and he will control it now. Alex can't live the rest of his life with a large chunk of metal attached to his chest, it's improbable and Charles will see to it that he never has to.

Which is why they are here.

The ever present mannequin is 6 feet to Charles' right but Alex can't seem to focus on it, concentration dampened by crippling self-doubt coupled with an abundance of terror - not one of emotions most inspiring cocktails. So Charles reaches out with his ability, brushing lightly along the edge of Alex's mind to make his presence known before he enshrouds the other with security (with safety, with calm, with patience).

He whispers words of assurances, of :: _You will not harm me Alexander. I trust you, I trust you, I trust you. Time to trust yourself_ :: and watches as the blonde settles, his hand gripping his chest one last time before falling to his side.

When Alex's sharp, determined eyes seek out his from across the shelter, Charles only smiles reassuringly and nods his head in permission then subtlety braces himself for what is soon to come.

A single drawn out breath and the shelter lights up in red.

Charles doesn't so much as flinch when the mannequin all but explodes in an arch of fire.

He does however get a split second to gasp in surprise before strong arms are surrounding his waist and twirling him about the room to the sound of Alex's boisterous laughter between chants of "I did it, I did it, I did it!"

Alex's pride, his happiness, is overflowing, pouring into Charles from an endless jug and he just allows himself to be swept up by the other's positive emotions.

As their laughter begins to pitter out they eventually come to a still, but instead of letting him go like Charles assumes he will, Alex simply drags him closer and buries his head into the crook of his neck. The embrace is alarmingly intimate, inappropriate, and Charles means to push the other away gently by the shoulders until the blonde begins to murmur in his ear.

"Thank you," Alex whispers softly, heartbreakingly so, "If you hadn't-, If I'd never-, thank you. Just thank you."

The overwhelming feeling of gratitude crushes Charles's ability to let go :: _Oh, Alex. It's alright, I understand_ :: and only makes his hold tighter.

Charles lends his comfort for an immeasurable amount of time, embraces and allows to be embraced so long as Alex needs it. So lost in the feeling of security he does not immediately recognize a change in the atmosphere.

The air begins to feel... charged, fevered even. Alex's breath seems more labored then it did moments ago but it could just be his exhaustion catching up to him, he has been using his ability practically non stop all day and a need for a reprieve is expected. Still, ever the concerned Professor, he dips into Alex's mind in search of any other telling thoughts that could indicate some kind of ailment, perhaps an injury that Alex does not want him privy of in the name of some false male bravado as young men seem to do nowadays.

He does not expect the heady rush that comes when Alex opens to him. Alex's mind is a haze of molten heat rolling just beneath the surface, and every lick of flame is concentrating, focusing intently on the feel of foreign skin beneath less than idle finger tips.

It's only then that Charles feels the play of fingers caressing the small of his back, hands creating invisible patterns into the exposed skin where his shirt has come loose from his pants. The touch makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his toes to curl within his shoes and his knees wobble in danger of giving out entirely. It's unbelievably stimulating, sensual in a way bed partners had failed to be even in the act of lovemaking. Charles barely refrains from keeping the shudders that are threatening to rack his body at bay. Alex's heady sigh of "Professor," however brings him back to himself like a slap of reality.

This is his student for _christ sakes_ and this cannot be condoned.

As though he sensed his sudden reluctance, Alex retaliates with an amused chuckle, the exhalation ghosting the shell of his ear in a mimicry of a caress, and a single questing finger dipping languidly into the cleft of his ass.

And god help him he _moans_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind comments! Just a small update for now to assure you that this fic is far from abandoned. Hope you enjoy!

\--

_Charles catches his gaze briefly in the rear view mirror, a tentative connection as they make their way to the airport, windows down, the warm spring air rushing through their lungs. Alex hadn't noticed before back at the jail-block, preoccupied as he was with the whole 'you're not the only one who's different, also, we're springing you from prison' thing, but Xavier's eyes really were a startling kind of blue, piercing in a way that Alex wondered if perhaps it was a result of his mutation._

_They were so... Alien._

_Either way, they were a jacked up type of vivid and Alex found himself entranced as they held his gaze. It was only a handful of seconds, short enough not to be considered staring, before Xavier had flashed him a reassuring smile and dropping their connection to return his attention to the road._

_Xavier isn't exactly what he'd call handsome, good looking to be sure but nowhere near what society would call 'breathtaking', he's just a little too plain, a little too soft in the cheeks to be considered anything better than just above average._

_No, Xavier will never turn heads in the street like his friend Lehnsherr or even on occasion, Alex himself - but all the same, from that moment on, Alex will never be able to look upon Charles again without his breath hitching the slightest of fractions._

\--

  
**ii.**   


It had been building for awhile, this all encompassing burn riding deep within his body. He had never intended to act on it, had hardly even dared to touch himself when he yearned during the night, afraid that the Professor might overhear the chant of his name in an erotic chorus as Alex tugged himself to orgasm, fist tight, toes curling into the disorderly mess of his sheets.

It hadn't been right of him, taking advantage like that, abusing Charles' generosity as he lent Alex comfort in an obviously emotional moment. 

But then Charles had made that noise, had made that sound from deep within his throat even though seconds ago he had tried to push Alex away.

Alex had never dreamed... had scarcely allowed himself to imagine.

_Reciprocation._

And then riding quick on it's heels - harsh reality.

\--

"What the hell happened to your face?"

Opening the fridge, Alex tries not to grimace at Sean's question, withdrawing the milk before kicking the door shut again.

"Training," he says gruffly, flicking the cap off angrily before swigging straight from the bottle, ignoring the other boy's muttered 'That's disgusting' as he downs at least half without taking a breath. Sighing in muted relief, Alex leans against the kitchen bench and brings the bottle up to his stinging cheek, wincing as the chilled glass made contact with his sensitive flesh.

The hit had been weak, Charles too restricted within Alex's arms to get any real power behind it, but still, a punch was a punch - they fucking _hurt_ regardless of how weak the throw.

Closing his eyes, he presses the bottle a little harder against the redness of his cheek, pretending to pay no heed as Sean snorts into his bowl of cereal where he sits at the large oak table, his grey sweat shirt already damp from what Alex assumes was an early jog with Hank.

"Dude, you plasma-ed yourself in the face?" Sean's sniggering only gets louder with Alex's withering stare.

"If that were the case I wouldn't _have_ a fucking face."

"Then why..." All of a sudden Sean exploded into raucous laughter, spoon clattering noisily in his bowl as he abandoned his cereal in leu of clutching his shaking sides. Alex felt his ears begin to burn at Sean's outburst, tried to distract himself from the urge to strangle the other boy by taking another swig of milk, wiping his mouth messily with the back of his hand. 

"Di-d the Prof?....Oh my God, he did! He totally did!" Sean was practically doubling over by this point, his red hair spread flat on top of the table as he beat his fist against the hard wood - lost to his own hysteria.

Practically throwing the milk bottle back into the fridge, Alex tried to reign in his wounded pride and the subsequent irritation that came with. He was going to be an adult about this, _mature_. Ignoring the other boy (or attempting to) he busied himself with making some toast, pulling condiments from their places in the overhead cabinets, pausing a moment before slowly putting them back, realizing he had just been unconsciously choosing Charles' favorites. His cheek twinged painfully in response like a heavy reminder.

He better just stick with butter.

As he was waiting for his bread to brown in the oven, Erik sidled into the kitchen seamlessly, glancing over to where Sean was struggling to breathe only briefly before rolling his eyes and stalked (well you couldn't really describe it as _walking_ ) past Alex to open the fridge, looking mildly annoyed as the glass bottles vibrated in their place. No doubt about the culprit.

"Sean, shut up before you break something," Erik groused, claiming the shaking milk bottle that Alex had just drunk from and raising it to his lips (Ew. Okay, maybe Sean had a point about the whole drinking out of the bottle thing.)

Through a stroke of intelligence, or perhaps just a healthy case of self preservation, Sean managed to quiet down to a light huffing, throwing a piece of his soggy cereal at Alex to gain his attention.

"So what did you do to piss him off, huh? Must have been pretty bad." In his peripherals he noted how Erik's interest in their exchange pique, his cold gaze calculating as he eyed the both of them. Normally this would have ruffled Alex's feathers a bit (Lehnsherr was fucking scary, man) but as it was, he was just a bit too miffed at his friend's accusatory tone, as jokingly it may have been.

In a moment of vindication, because fuck his face really did hurt, Alex snarled, "What makes you think it was anything I did? Maybe it was unprovoked, did you ever think about that?"

Sean just leveled him with an even look, eyebrows raised and Alex, anger leaving him as quickly as it came, had to concede the point. 

The Professor was many things - violent was not one of them.

Taking a seat next to the other with a sigh, he felt his body collapse upon the chair as he continued, some of his earlier dejection resurfacing as he nibbled on his butter slathered breakfast.

"I didn't make him angry or anything, don't think he really does that," Alex whispered, aware of Sean's curious stare but even more aware of Erik's narrowed one from across the room. "I guess I just... surprised him."

"How do you surprise a telepath?"

Funnily enough, cheek still throbbing lightly like an insistent reminder of Charles' blatant rejection, Alex doesn't feel compelled to share.

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd as usual. If anyone wants the job, for this story or any of my others, just give us a bell, yeah?


End file.
